


you sweet summer child

by deadquiche



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Found Family, Gen, Kinda, POV Second Person, TommyInnit centric, au where yts change according to their personas/icons, rt is there for like three paragraphs but he still counts, they are still ccs in this au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28056645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadquiche/pseuds/deadquiche
Summary: You grin falsely and peer at your braces in the reflection. Part of you knows you won’t ever take them off.-Some moments after you lost your age.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 16
Kudos: 119
Collections: Iconography





	you sweet summer child

You know a man who is not a brother. But people neither of you know say that he is yours, so he might as well be.

Once, you could put your head on his shoulder. That was recently. That was only a couple months ago and that day is still bright in your mind but it seems anything is up for grabs now, huh? He has to practically bow to go through any door and you can’t quite touch your best friend’s shoulder.

In the mirror, your brother sees a living horror, an imitation of himself twisted away from humanity. In the mirror, you see a face you’d thought you’d never have again.

(Isn’t it funny? One week you weep for what you’ve lost forever, and another you weep for getting it back.

It’s not your face.)

You grin falsely and peer at your braces in the reflection. Part of you knows you won’t ever take them off.

Your brother doesn’t grin in videos anymore, he tries not to open his mouth too much on streams, despite how impossible it is. It’s all too dangerous now.

If they see the rows of spikes in his mouth, they will know. And they can’t know.

You don’t remember when you noticed how small his smiles were.

But you don’t mind the triangles in his smile. One day you mumble it out to him.

He starts and stops again and again, but you understand. You know the feeling.

———

You know a man who is a brother. And people neither of you know say that you are his too, so you might as well be.

You never got to meet him Before. You both regret it, somehow. You shouldn’t, but you do.

When you meet at last, you notice many things. His hands, his teeth, his ears. You glance to his locks of pink hair and your brother stiffens. “All the way down to the roots,” he whispers and he doesn’t meet your eyes.

You clasp your brother’s hand and let him break this time. Your five doll fingers don’t fit his four fingered hooves, but you squeeze them anyways.

The sun will rise soon, but in this quiet place, all you see is the sky slowly fading into blue. Your brother fidgets as he stares off and you should say something.

“Thank you,” he cracks out and maybe you don’t need to talk to help. He squeezes your hand back and you know he’ll be there for you. Some things deserve more than words can provide. 

———

You know a man who is not a father. But people none of you know say that he is your father, and so you might as well be his kid.

It’s instincts, he tells you. Like a bird and their chicks. That’s most of it. So you let him comb your hair. And he lets you preen his feathers.

Sometimes, your father and a brother visit in the afternoon. And you say goodbye to your parents and leave to spend just a couple hours with people who know this plight. Always in empty places. Always forgotten. Only where you’re safe.

And the walk home is always silent. And you never want to say goodbye but you always do.

On a night you won’t remember the date of, your father wraps his wings around you as he says goodbye. There’s a lump in your throat and you can’t quite say it back.

He isn’t replacing your dad. He’s another, in a way, one who hasn’t seen your whole life through and doesn’t know who you were, who you’ve been before the fame.

He can remember the teen Before, of course. But he also remembers who he was Before. It doesn’t matter as much when he knows this pain too.

———

You know a boy who is your best friend. And that’s the full truth of it.

When you visit him again, he takes off his coat in the front hall and shows you his wings. They don’t seem like they’re strong enough to lift him. They’re so small and thin and you see right through them.

He flaps around the kitchen anyways.

You looked slightly older than him Before. You look much younger now.

You look like children. You look like the greatest things in the world to you would be playing outside in puddles and drinking juice. As if you came home from school with crayon scribbles and pink cheeks.

But you’re both old enough to drive, nearly to drink. Taxes are closer to you than show and tell. You both have jobs, careers that you can live off of. Neither of you are kids.

The sky is nothing but gray. The beach is empty and there’s rain hitting the sand with each step. The wind is sharp and lashes at your coats and hands.

Neither of you talk. But there’s only comfort on this beach.

———

You know a man who is in the same boat.

He meets you on a spring day and it’s an accident. You can only meet his eyes for a second. You mumble a greeting and stare at your shoelaces. His greeting is clearer but just as short.

He is an inevitability. One day you will know him, maybe better than anyone. One day you’ll see it all pass with this man.

He isn’t like any of the others. He looks far beyond them, beyond everyone, everything. More god than man but he’s only twenty-five and he plays video games and he’s scared. He’s as human as you are. 

He doesn’t stay around long. He knows he’s a constant reminder. You know that you’re just a reminder too.

When you go home, you fall into a kitchen chair and watch the shadows move.

Your brother visits in the afternoon, the one with brown hair and scales. He puts his hand on your shoulder.

He doesn’t promise anything. He doesn’t say a word to you. He talks to your mom and dad and he almost apologizes for something you can’t hear. They don’t let him.

You eat a late lunch with your brother and he stays until it starts to rain. You let him borrow an umbrella.

He waves at the end of the street. You wave back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll almost certainly write more for this au because there's a lot more people in it and more dynamics. But I'm pretty proud of this work.
> 
> Dedicated to [SeCrFiDr](/users/SeCrFiDr/) who wrote some very good fics in second-person and inspired me to try this style.
> 
> (Edit: Hey, I made a collection which has this and some of my friends’ fics for this au. They’re really good, you should check them out.)


End file.
